An Elven Lord of Old
by Aromene
Summary: Frodo is given the opportunity to thank his Elven host for saving his life. A shirebunny.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Elrond or Frodo. Or Rivendell. Or the LOTR. I wish I did.**

**Note: A genuine shirebunny! I actually wrote one. This is what comes from procrastinating an English paper and watching a marathon screening of LOTR. This be a one-shot.**

**shirebunny: A few days after the Council, Frodo finally gets the opportunity to speak with Elrond privately, and thank him for saving his life. What is Frodo's impression of this elf lord whom he has only heard about from Bilbo's stories?**

**Dedication: To shirebound, for writing such great stories.**

The last few days had been busy to say the least. Frodo had been ordered to return to bed as soon as the Council ended, and despite his protestations, once there he had slept without waking until the following morning.

By then it seemed, at least according to Sam's stories, as if half of Rivendell had ridden away at dawn in every direction imaginable. Frodo was thoroughly bewildered by all of this, and even more disappointed to learn that Aragorn seemed to have left as well.

Sam, talking a mile a minute, eagerly served his master good until Frodo was forced to protest being stuffed like a suckling pig.

Since then, Merry, Sam and Pippin had kept him more than entertained. And Frodo, so long as he took it careful, was able to spend time in the gardens with Bilbo and Gandalf.

And so, it was well into the fourth day after the Council before Frodo once more encountered Elrond.

Frodo did not hear or sense the presence behind him, too engrossed in scouring the vast library for the perfect book – preferably in a language he could read.

"Might I suggest the bookshelf to your left, Master Frodo?"

Startled, Frodo whirled so fast, Elrond was forced to reach out a hand to steady him.

"Lord Elrond," Frodo exclaimed. "I'm sorry!"

Elrond held up a hand to silence him. "No need, Frodo. It was I who startled you. Might I offer my assistance in helping to locate a particular book? Or where you simply browsing?"

Frodo found himself blushing, though he wasn't exactly certain why. Where all Elven-lords so intimidating?

"Just browsing, my lord," he stammered out.

"Please, Frodo, I am not your lord." He smiled, and Frodo felt himself beginning to relax. "Elrond will do just fine."

Frodo smiled as well. "Elrond," he agreed.

"Will you walk with me Frodo?" He gestured towards the outdoor patio and the gardens. Overwhelmed, Frodo could only bring himself to nod.

"I have been meaning to speak with you sooner, but I found myself quite busy the last few days. Many here wished my Council, or to pledge their assistance in the Quest." Amusement flashed for a moment in the half-elven's eyes and Frodo suddenly wondered if Elrond ever laughed. Somehow he couldn't picture such a serious elf ever laughing.

Silence fell, and Elrond seemed to grow distant as he stopped before a blooming rose bush. Frodo paused as well to admire the beautiful pink blossoms. The hobbit watched his companion for a moment, trying to find the courage to say what he had been thinking for the previous days.

"Elrond," he started, and was surprised when the elf turned thoughtful eyes upon him. "I wanted – that is to say, I wanted to thank you. For…saving my life."

"Frodo," he said, motioning the hobbit to a nearby bench and joining him there. "I was honored to tend you. I am simply thankful I was able to help. When Glorfindel first brought you to me, I feared you were beyond aid. I am glad it was not so." Something flashed briefly in Elrond's eyes, but it was gone before Frodo could guess what it was.

"I am glad as well." The hobbit smiled sadly. "I was so afraid –" His eyes widened as he realized he had said more than he had wanted to.

"It is well, Frodo. I am here to listen, and it might do you well to discuss it. I may understand, as your fellow hobbits cannot."

Frodo sighed. "You're right, they don't understand. But, surely you have never been –?"

"Nay, Frodo. I have never been wounded by a Nazgûl. But I have treated such wounds too often. I have seen much evil, Frodo. Too much. And not always in my power to heal."

Frodo thought about the roses and made a guess. "Who was she?"

If Elrond was surprised, he did not show it. "She is my wife; Celebrían. Many years ago she was captured by orcs and took a grievous wound. It was not in my power to heal her fully, so she sailed West to the Undying Lands. One day, soon I hope, I shall join her."

"I am sorry," Frodo said, tears forming in his own eyes.

"Hannon le. You would have liked her. I see in you much of her spirit." It seemed to Frodo as if he willed the sadness from his eyes. "If you will excuse me Frodo, I have a meeting to attend. And I believe it is nearly time for 'tea', as you call it." He rose gracefully, and with a small bow, returned towards his study. Frodo stared after him, trying to make sense of all he had learned.

Elrond was certainly not what he had expected! Frodo hurried off to tea, and to find Bilbo.


End file.
